


lay with me and close your eyes (avalanche)

by aionimica



Series: Space Girlfriends [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/F, Femslash, Femslash February, Future Fic, Hoth, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Sex, Kylo loves her for it, Lesbians in Space, Rey is a tease, Rey wants to win, Sparring, f!kylo ren, fem!Kylo Ren, reylo femslash, sparring is an analogy for sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 14:05:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13683198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aionimica/pseuds/aionimica
Summary: "Their sparring sessions ended in that fashion in one way or another, spent from each other, though they type of spending varied from day to day. Kylo hummed at the memory, an aching voice that came from too many hours spent between sheets and pressed in each other's arms, echoing across the void that bridged their minds:Never a dull day with you, sweetheart."------------------Rey and Kylo are sent off to chart forgotten systems, but while stuck on Hoth on assignment, the two girls find other ways to stay entertained.





	lay with me and close your eyes (avalanche)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kimaracretak](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimaracretak/gifts), [meritmut](https://archiveofourown.org/users/meritmut/gifts).



> because [kimaracretak](http://archiveofourown.org/users/kimaracretak/pseuds/kimaracretak) showed me the music video for ["Avalanche" by Cellar Darling](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NWMiBj0yDJg) and I have been unable to get it out of my head.

The blow echoed in Rey’s ears with the roar of an avalanche. For a moment the bright skies of Hoth were dotted with stars as her vision blackened, but gritting her teeth, Rey kept her footing and narrowed her eyes at her opponent. 

Kylo Ren skidded across the ice in the opposite direction, her black hair partially pulled back, though strands still escaped and framed her face. Her dark eyes never left Rey, her brows furrowed in concentration as she recentered and adjusted her grip on her saber. She tasted salt on her lips and when she smiled, blood smeared on her chin. 

“You’re getting sloppy,” Kylo said, her melodious voice echoing off the ice. It was just the two of them on this barren world, the two of them stuck in an old Rebel base, charting forgotten systems while the world forgot them. 

Hoth was one of the worst they’d visited -- it was a sheet of ice and nothing else, and so the two women spent their spare time in their usual fashion, with their lightsaber settings just short of lethality. 

“If I get a concussion, this is all your fault,” Rey said, spitting blood to the side. 

Rey shook her head as that self-deprecating smile took over Kylo’s face. It came easier now, but it still took getting used to. It felt half out of place and half perfect, even though it took a war to bring it to fruition.

“You’ll just have to settle for my care,” Kylo said as she lunged forward, her blade swinging down in a heavy arc. 

“And that went so well last time.” Rey managed to parry the blow, but only just, Kylo’s wild blow melting the icy ground in with a hiss. 

“You didn’t seem to complain,” Kylo commented as their sabers met again and again as she drove Rey back across the snow. Her arms jarred as she swung forward in another heavy arc, the momentum nearly wrenching her saber from her hands. Kylo’s lips twitched and those doe eyes hardened and softened as she reached across their bond. “Or am I just remembering it differently?”

Rey didn’t answer, the memory projected between them: Rey on the mess of pallets, her arms bandaged from sparring shocks and legs spread, her skin flushed red. It morphed and suddenly there was Kylo, her long black hair down and curling around her breasts that peaked, her back arched as Rey lay between her legs. 

Their sparring sessions ended in that fashion in one way or another, spent from each other, though they type of spending varied from day to day. Kylo hummed at the memory, an aching voice that came from too many hours spent between sheets and pressed in each other's arms, echoing across the void that bridged their minds:  _ Never a dull day with you, sweetheart.  _

The older girl disengaged from the spar and walked around her, taking her in, twirling her blade like it was nothing. 

“Again.” Kylo shifted her weight forward as Rey angled for defense. 

“I’m going to win this time,” Rey promised through gritted teeth. Technically they didn’t keep score with their spars, but more often than not it was Rey who found herself conceding to Kylo’s blade. The other girl -- the trained Knight -- had so much more knowledge, so much more finesse and while Rey could hold her own with brute strength and luck, there was only so much she could do when it came to actual victories. 

That didn’t mean she didn’t try. She ran forward with a roar, throwing Kylo back on her feet as she worked against the onslaught. Reaching out, Rey flung a wall of snow that the other girl cut through cleanly, enveloping them in a cloud of mist. Without hesitation, she swung forward, her cut finding its mark and Kylo hissing as the cut stranded dangerously close to her skin. Without hesitation, she returned and twisted her blade around Rey’s and pulled her in close.

Kylo leaned into the hold, chin straying dangerously near to the crackling edge of her blade. “We’ll see about that.” 

With a hard twist, Rey gasped as she pulled the saber from her grasp and before she could react, backed her into the far wall. Rey leaned her head back against the duracrete and watched her beneath half-open eyes, panting, trying to catch her breath. They lingered there, eyes watching each other, the Force humming between them. 

It was this moment that they longed for, here at the brink of exhaustion when bloodlust pumped in their veins and everything blurred on the edge of red. Nothing was satiated, everything burned and all Rey could hear was their breathing and her pulse in her ear. Lust lingered on the bond between them, heavy and throbbing, full of laden wants that had been pressed aside again and again. 

It blossomed every time they sparred or fought, the connection between them opening so wide they that nothing was filtered out. Kylo leaned in, her hair falling from its tie, her tunic loose and shrugged to the side. Rey lingered on her collarbone and the soft flesh of her chest that peaked below her open collar before tracing up that long neck to those eyes at bore down and lingered on her lips.

Kylo rumbled. “Better?”

Rey swallowed down the ache that started low and curled in her stomach. Her breath was hot and heavy on her skin as Kylo panted in her ear. Slowly their breathing eased and Rey drew her gaze from Kylo’s lips - full and soft and red and so, so close - and leaned in with a challenge of her own. 

The other girl stiffened as Rey kissed her, her teeth nipping against her bottom lip, her tongue teasing out a shudder. Hands that had her pinned fell limp and Rey leaned into the wall and reached out and pulled her in, holding her hips against her own. Dark hair brushed against their faces, though who it belonged to, she wasn’t sure. But here in this foreign planet with ice under her feet and snow on her skin, Rey only could feel the warmth from her, leeching into her skin.  

She could stay here;  _ they _ could stay here, let their hands roam, let her elicit those sounds from Kylo she’d only dreamed of hearing; but there was one tiny problem Rey realized as Kylo leaned in further and tossed her lightsaber to the side, her hands fumbling with her wrap.

There was a push and pull to their motions, a give and take; a preparation and hesitation; a defense and an attack; a parry here, a thrust there -- redirection to that place that begged to be touched. Hands reached and grabbed, blows meeting in the middle, crackling and burning and fueling the roaring warmth that threatened to burst through the skin. In her mind, Rey saw blue and red sabers swinging in arcs before meeting and ricocheting off the other; she saw Kylo’s smirk, felt it against her lips as her tongue tasted her, her hands cupping her jaw to bring a better angle. 

And Rey could stay -- she could let herself ride the wave and let it run and follow where it led. But then she tasted blood on her tongue and saw herself through Kylo’s eyes, conceding the match with indignation and the phantom thrill of victory rushed through her skin.

Rey wanted it for her own; the victory to be hers alone. She’d give in later -- the vision flared in her mind (from herself or Kylo she wasn’t sure) but she saw the inevitable future, her hips splayed out, Kylos hands roaming -- or was it Kylo who moaned on the sheets as Rey smiled and tasted and held her hips against her cheeks. But for now? Rey pulled back with a smile as Kylo groaned in frustration, her hand that sought for her skin curling into a fist. Rey smirked as Kylo’s fair skin turned a shade of red as she leaned into the wall. She tossed her a grin as she sauntered away.

“Much.”

 


End file.
